


Protocol

by Lennora



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Detective Alex Navarro, Gen, Other, Post-Book 2, Pre-Book 3, Rest of UB mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26374243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lennora/pseuds/Lennora
Summary: "It's protocol, detective," she explains on the other end of the phone."For you to do a daily check-in?" I reply, certain she can hear my raised brow."Of course, yes," the response is just a little too fast.
Relationships: Detective/Ava du Mortain
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is purposefully written so that Alex could be any gender the reader would like. I'm making a lot of other decisions about the character but I hope that is easily malleable. 
> 
> I hope I use the name sparingly enough that it's easy for people to kind of sub in their own OCs as well, if they'd like.

A library’s quiet has always felt like a warm blanket nestled over my shoulders, but in the Warehouse there is another layer to the comfort. It’s become a second home to me, mostly due Unit Bravo, the eclectic vampires I share the space with. The team has welcomed me completely as evidenced by them taking time out of their schedules to visit with me or drop by with a small snack.

Granted, it’s usually only Nat that remembers I need to eat. Farah often wants me to alleviate her boredom somehow, generally with paper airplanes to Nat’s disapproval. Even Morgan has stopped by for a few minutes at a time, asking if I’ve learned anything interesting. It’s caring, in her own way.

Of course, Ava has stopped in as well but the visits are always professional and somehow shorter than even Morgan’s. Asking for reports, making sure I know of upcoming missions, so on and so forth. That sort of thing and no more, despite the feeling I get we both want otherwise . Ever since the night of the carnival things between Ava and I have been… different. Better, I think, but I can also sense there’s more strain than even before. I’m usually good at feeling these things out, and the more time I spend around her the more I understand her actions, like an open book. It’s just, occasionally, the words all jumble and the book may as well be written in latin.

That thought warms my whole body as two particular latin words echo in my mind, completely distracting me from my reading.

“Detective,” the voice calls from over my shoulder, and it’s one that sends a shiver down my spine even still. It’s ridiculous that her voice, the way the lilt of _her_ accent carasses each individual syllable, still has that kind of affect on me.

It’s as if my thoughts both summoned her and kept me from hearing her enter the library. It’s so easy for her to cloud my perception, my first sign all those months ago, and I try to play it off as being lost in reading.

I set the book down on the desk and turn in the seat to face her, locking my eyes with her icy greens. Thankfully I’ve been around enough lately that I’m able to continue breathing normally but my heart still jumps in my chest.

“Ava,” I return with a genuine smile, and I notice she softens a little at that. I stand and roll my shoulders, loosening them from the long hours I’ve spent studying, before leaning against the desk and facing her fully. “Something I can do for you?”

“Yes,” she begins immediately, “as you know Unit Bravo has been rather busy of late, ever since the maa-alused signed the treaty.”

I was hoping for a different line of discussion but I nod. If I haven’t been at my actual job, here, or my apartment, I’ve been working with the team to settle supernatural issues in Wayhaven and the surrounding land. But the way she prompts makes me expect there is a shoe yet to drop.

“This coming week is no different,” there’s a small pause as she considers me. “However, your particular skills will not be needed for any of the upcoming operations.”

“So you don’t have any supernaturals tipping over bins or littering that need a stern reprimanding?” Wayhaven PD, blissfully, has had a quiet couple of weeks by comparison.

The joke does cause her form to drop some of the rigid professionalism. “You know I value your abilities highly, detective. You have an easy way with people, and a brilliant deductive mind. It was your quick thinking that resulted in Murphy’s capture.”

I try and keep myself from any kind of reaction, but I still glance down at my left arm. It’s been months but I can clearly see the ragged gashes and fresh blood pooling in my mind. When I look back up Ava is looking at me with obvious concern, a step closer. I take a breath and shake it off and force a steady nod.

“I had the rest of the team to help spring the trap, but I appreciate your compliment,” I recover in my usual way. “My ego is suitably stroked, you can continue with your point.”

Hearing the humor in my voice, Ava steps back and the concern in her eyes is replaced with a twinkle of amusement. We both know I’m not alright, but she’s used to me working through it with humor and has even started to accept that particular quirk.

“I know previously you chose to further your knowledge in the supernatural and I still respect that decision and your reasoning for it. But as the team leader I have decided that since you are not needed for the week, it would be best if you underwent some combat training,” she pauses, the tone of her voice indicating she knows I will have objections.  
  
“You do know throwing a punch isn’t exactly one of my strengths, supernatural aside,” I begin. “I passed in the lower fifth of my class for physical and hand-to-hand training at the academy. Trust me, Tina would never let me forget.”

“I am quite familiar with your unimpressive combat technique, detective,” her voice is even but there’s a hint of a teasing smirk on her lips.

“Ooh,” I let out a breath in mock offense, “that’s such a step down from the ‘less-than-adequate’ I was before.”

“All the more reason you should undergo this training. The regimen is focused on self-defense in consideration of your… inexperience,” mirth dances in her eyes before she continues. “I have modified the entry-level Agency training to an even more basic form, something I think you will be able to grasp.”

A small chuckle escapes my lips at her jabs, and I feel happy that teasing like this has become so easy between us. 

“I don’t know, Ava, you make compelling points but I suspect even this modified training is going to leave me with more bruises and aches than I can count and I can think of at least twenty different ways I’d rather spend my coming week,” my tone is light but it drops at the end when it's clear she’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

“This is an order, detective. Agent Navarro and I spoke and she agreed with my assessment that this is necessary,” there’s a finality in the tone now that the humor is gone -- her ‘team leader’ voice.

Still, bringing Rebecca in on this didn’t sit well with me, and I certainly didn’t like the idea of being ordered about. Come to think of it, that particular point is where our discussions often become something more aggravating.

“Funny, I don’t remember signing on as an agent. Pretty sure you nor my mother really have the authority to tell me what to do. No matter how much you seem to wish you could,” there’s a bit of bite in my words.

“You need to know how to defend yourself, detective. What if I - what if we are not there when you need us?” Agitation colors her tone, the familiar mix of concern over my well-being and anger at my stubbornness.

I can almost hear the ‘good recovery’ Farah might offer.

We often argue on any subject big or small, it’s just the way it is with us. I’ve lost count of how many rounds we’ve gone. But I know this one is personal for her. She has always been rather touchy when it comes to my safety. At first because of her mission, and then rather more.

I open my mouth to retort again but then she takes a few steps forward, her shoulders sagging slightly and her voice quieting. “Please, Alex.”

Just like that my thoughts stop in their tracks. Forget my title, hearing my name from her lips is enough to shatter any counter I was about to make.

I look away with a furrowed brow, taking a heavy breath. I imagine myself bleeding out on the floor of that warehouse a few months ago. Even though the memories are hazy I clearly remember her catching me as I fell, the desperation in her eyes as I briefly surfaced from unconsciousness.

Inversely, the image of Ava sprawled unmoving on the floor of that abandoned sewer system covered in burns flashes in my vision. I understand completely her feelings.

A few beatings in the ring are the least I can do for this woman.

“Okay,” I say softly, taking a few steps forward myself and meeting her eyes once more. “For you.”

A shudder of relief passes over her form. “I would rather you do it for yourself, but… thank you.”

The tension eases out of both of us until once again the quiet of the library doesn’t seem quite so oppressive. I’m drawn to take another step or two forward, now firmly in _her_ space. For a few seconds she doesn’t seem to mind as we lose ourselves in each other’s eyes. I see her hand reach up out of the corner of my vision, and I think back to the night of the carnival. Willing the sensation of her hand in mine to be a reality again I lift my hand to meet hers.

She pulls her hand away suddenly and steps back, tearing her gaze from mine as she does. Tension returns to her form and she resets her jaw before turning to look at me again. I restrain myself from feeling too dejected at the reaction, knowing she just needs time. There’s something between us, I know it and she knows it, but the relationship is in a perpetual state of ‘car stuck in neutral rolling down a three degree hill.’

I swear I can normally come up with better metaphors, but it’s hard to think straight where Ava’s involved.

She’s the first to speak, her voice back to her normal evenness.

“And, if nothing else, it will get you out of this library and that station,” she says, tone filled not with disapproval but something more akin to exasperation. To be fair, ever since my first research session I have been spending most of my free time surrounded by Nat’s tomes.

I lean my weight to one side and let my eyes fall down her form as I smirk. “If that’s all you wanted I can think of a few places I’d let you take me.”

I’m not sure if my forwardness comes from having not had any real time with her recently, or if I’ve just learned it pays to be bold with Ava. She must have been feeling the distance however, as my words have the desired effect. Her expression immediately collapses into that most distressingly cute deer-in-the-headlights look she has. Except having seen it a few times now I’m certain it’s not all shock, there’s hints of exhilaration in the lines of her face.

I know it won’t last and I commit the image to memory before she eventually swallows hard and averts her eyes, but only after she casts a long glance over me as well. Heat radiates in the space between us, and I feel my cheeks flush in response. She clears her throat and reforms her mask before speaking again, whatever was there locked again behind her usual stoicism.

“Unfortunately, I _am_ on the docket for this week. Agent Navarro and I have determined a suitable candidate to suit the role of your trainer. As you will be gone the entirety of the week a suitable cover has already been prepared, you will find the details in the briefing folder in your room.”

It makes enough sense, wouldn’t do for me to show up to work with a sudden and mysterious broken arm. Though I hope it won’t come to that.

I do a quick roll call in my head of the town’s police force. “Tina’s out of town at a training function in the city, with her gone that leaves Douglas. His work has been better ever since his recent… fixation,” I admit with a wince, and her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “Verda should be able to keep everything running, but would you mind sparing some time to check in through the week? Just in case.”

Ava frowns for a moment, likely not appreciating the extra work, but then nods resolutely. “Should Officer Friedman need any assistance I shall provide it.”

I let out a relieved breath. Unit Bravo’s team leader takes her duties seriously; Wayhaven is in safe hands.

“Where is this trainer, anyways?” I roll my neck to get rid of some of the tension and start back to the desk.

“The facility,” the words come out in a drawl and and I know a smile is playing on her lips. It’s enough to make me stop and turn to face her once more.

It feels like _where_ wasn’t the question she was waiting for.

“And… when does the training begin?’” I ask, already dreading the answer.

“Two hours from now, I believe,” the twinkle in her eye is back. “It really is the best we could do, they work in a small outpost to the north and are only visiting for the week at our request. They also happen to be nocturnal.”

I look down at my watch and groan. My shoulders drop as I realize I’ll have to put off sleep to get my ribs cracked.

But my spirits are raised ever so slightly by the unusual playfulness Ava is demonstrating, though I begin to suspect that it’s fueled by my ever-darkening expression. She has the upper hand and she knows it, having now fully recovered from her stumble earlier.

“Come now, detective, a few drills certainly have to be safer than the threat to life and limb that you drive,” she begins to walk backwards toward the door.

I don’t have it in me to defend my beat up hatchback at the moment, so instead I merely eye her warily and try my hardest not to watch the way her outline shifts and rolls with that particular movement.

With a smirk that makes me want to follow she’s through the door and gone, the latch clicking lightly behind her.

Well, she certainly won this round.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have mentioned this on the first chapter but didn't so here it is. (I'm also going to add a note to Chapter 1 like I should have before)
> 
> I'm purposefully writing this so that Alex could be any gender the reader would like. I'm making a lot of other decisions about the character but wanted that to be malleable. 
> 
> I hope I use the name sparingly enough that it's easy for people to kind of sub in their own OCs as well, if they'd like.

If I ever get a say in the placement of the secret bases of a multinational supernatural protection organization I'm going to advocate for roads. Real roads. Not the lumpy dirt paths that play hell on my poor hatchback's even poorer suspension. I have to take it so slow that by the time I arrive the skies are a bright orange, heralding the oncoming dusk.

Grabbing my go-bag from the backseat I get out awkwardly and lock the car. Then I try locking it again when some of the doors inevitably don’t respond, then give up and sling the bag over my shoulder. No one is going to try and get into it out here anyways.

My entry into the Facility is painless. I like to think it’s because of my ‘unhappy detective’ face but more likely they just know who I am at this point and only check my one-moon card to make sure I’m not some kind of shapeshifter. When I get to my quarters I note the accommodations are bland, but considering the non-existent decor in both my apartment and Warehouse room I don’t really have any right to complain.

I set my bag down and remove my blazer and nice slacks. They’re hardly clothing for physical activity, and considering I’m expecting to get my ass handed to me all night I would prefer not to ruin them, either. I’m still upset about the suit I lost during the Murphy incident.

Changed and resigned to what’s to come, I check the briefing folder once more to verify the training room I’ll be using and set off down the long metal corridors of the Facility.

My pace is meandering, but eventually I reach the section of the Facility set aside for physical activity. I pass gymnasiums and tracks and even a pool, all filled with various humans and supernaturals, before finally reaching the room I’m looking for.

I hesitate outside the door a moment before I remember who I’m doing this for. I take a steadying breath, steel myself, and head inside.

Straight ahead when I enter is a stone statue about twice my height standing on a mat in the middle of the room. It’s craggy and asymmetric, one arm seemingly slightly too long while the other is thicker and has jagged edges to it. Patches of moss have grown on parts of it, away from the joints I notice. At the top of it I see the glint of two beads in a domed boulder. I’m pretty sure it’s a head.

“Detective,” a slow, thick drawl comes from above, colored in what is almost an American southern accent, but not quite. I’m sure Nat would place it. “Been waitin’ for ya. Name’s Enio.”

“Uh,” I stumble, somehow used to talking to vampires but not statues. Silly me. “Nice to meet you. Alex Navarro, but I’m guessing you already knew that.”

“Sure, sure,” if they’re phased by my pause they don’t let it show. Bizarrely, I don’t see their lips moving as they speak. “Got a dossier an’ everything, but most of the useful info came from Vieno.”

“You know Vieno?” I ask, thinking fondly of the small supernatural. Though, it’s hard to ignore my curiosity at what could be in an Agency dossier labeled with my name.

“Oh, yeah, we go way back. I trust ‘em, and if what I was told is true then you seem like a good sort.” Those lips definitely aren’t moving. “Still, aren’t ya a little early?”

I glance at my watch and notice I’m still a few minutes ahead of schedule. Maybe Enio is waiting for the actual trainer to show up? Not sure how I’m supposed to be trained by an inanimate supernatural.

“I suppose I like to make a good first impression,” I say with a noncommittal shrug.

Before either of us can say anything further I feel the air shift in the room. It’s like there’s a charge to it that causes my hair to stand up and goosebumps to rise. It’s gone so fast I wonder if I imagined it until I see what’s happening in front of me.

“Me, too,” Enio says and then the statue in front of me comes alive. I hear what sounds like pebbles rolling down a rocky hill as they move, stone impacting stone while they seem to stretch and loosen up.

“Sunset,” I put together, recalling some of my research. Something about the reality, the absoluteness, of the sun rising and setting has an effect on supernaturals in this world. I couldn’t find any reason why, other than it seems to be a kind of immutable natural law. Like how humans thought of gravity before we understood all the complex math behind it.

Besides even that, it’s sensible to conclude more than vampires would be affected by the sun or its absence.

Enio looks down at me and a thick patch of moss above the shiny beads seems to raise in what I think is approval. “I can see why Bravo would keep you around.”

I let the praise lift my spirits, allowing the small morale boost before the fall I know is coming.

“I have my moments. I’m pretty sure they even like me, too,” I chuckle. My position does seem to be a point of oddity among the Agency with how often I’m referred to as ‘Bravo’s human’ or the like.

“More ‘n that for one of ‘em, if the scuttlebutt is t’ be believed,” the troll says in their leisurely, almost melodious voice.

I catch the meaning and feel the tips of my ears flush. I look away, suddenly finding the walls of the room to be of particular interest. The rumors apparently circulating the Facility don’t need any extra confirmation from me.

Something grabs my attention and I look at them quizzically. “‘Scuttlebutt?’ That’s a peculiar term. Naval, correct?”

“Oh, I’d wager every folk in the pub wants you on their team for trivia night, detective.” There’s a rumble of what I am pretty sure is laughter. “Yer right, though. Don’t got much to do up in my own little outpost, aside from the work the Agency gives me. So I watch a lot of movies, picked up the term there. Dunno why I liked it, never been on the sea in my life -- just do.”

I nod in understanding. I wasn’t forced to dress quite so smartly for work, least of all in a small town like Wayhaven, but it just seemed like the thing to do.

“Do you… like movies, then?” I ask, curious but also more than happy for small-talk at the moment.

Enio tilts their domed head to one side, as much as they can, as they chuckle. “Now it’s startin’ to feel like you might be trying t’ put off your training, detective. Don’t think the commanding agent would appreciate that.”

“No, she would not, I assure you,” I admit, finding it easy to laugh along with Enio.

They straighten and reach high to stretch their back and instead of cracking I hear something like the crumbling of stone. They let out a breath of relief and then go stand in the middle of the mat again.

“Well, give me your best shot,” they make themselves wide open.

“Excuse me?” I ask, suspicious.

“Just tryin’ to get the measure of ya, detective. One free shot, then we can get started.” They’re not laughing now but I hear mirth in their voice.

This feels like a setup, but I signed on for this training and we’re not going anywhere until it’s over so I might as well get on with it.

I lift my arms and set myself into a poor ready stance before inching closer, trying to think of the best way to attack.

I recall some of my academy training and realize it will be approximately zero help. Turns out they didn’t have an exercise about fighting people twelve foot tall and made of rock.

Go figure.

I fall back on my best tool, my mind. As I give the troll a once over I recall what I have seen of them so far. The eyes would be the best target but I’m not going to risk trying to climb Enio to even attempt that. Joints are another option, they’re a weak point on any creature. With enough pressure they bend and cause extreme pain. With the right pressure they break. I don’t think I have to worry about breaking Enio, however.

There’s only two joints I can even begin to think of reaching. I take a quick step forward with my left leg, bring my body weight forward with it, then lift my right knee up toward my chest and only barely remember to twist as I snap my leg out toward Enio’s right knee.

It feels like kicking a concrete wall, and I curse Newton for giving me the confidence to think my action was going to have any kind of reaction other than shocking, bone rattling pain.

I barely manage to restrain my painful yelp into a gurgle of agony, pulling my leg and holding my foot gingerly above the floor. 

Enio laughs, and then it intensifies into rolling thunder when they realize I’m hopping on one foot. “Good thought, going for the knee, Daniel-san,” they say after their laughter calms enough to speak. “Hit ‘em where they’re weak. But I am stone, and you are not.”

“Then what the _hell_ was I supposed to learn there!?” I hop a few more times before gingerly testing my foot on the ground, wincing as I put weight on it.

Meanwhile, the rockslide of their glee continues. Eventually, they answer. “Some things _you_ aren’t supposed t’ fight,” their mouth shifts into a rocky grin at my glare. “It was the commanding agent’s idea.”

“Of course it was,” I manage to growl out. “Do any of the human agents ever get tired of the pity party?”

“They know their limits, but damn near all of ‘em are better at fighting than you are if only because they had some real trainin’,” they say. I huff and they continue. “Hell, a handful might actually be able to take me on. But not you. Definitely not you. So we’re not going t’ focus on fighting, but on stayin’ alive.”

“Didn’t know ‘running away’ was part of combat training.” I test my leg again and this time find the pain has subsided enough to stand normally, but not enough to keep the grimace off my face.

“In your case, against folk like me, it is. You can get used to that or you can do somethin’ damn foolish and get yerself killed,” Enio says as they squat in front of me to emphasize their point. “Yer part of a team, everyone’s got their jobs. Just so happens yer the only one without supernatural strength, so yer job in a fight is to stay alive.”

My jaw clenches in agitation but eventually I sigh, letting the frustration drain out of me.

“Fine, so what’s on the schedule for today? Aside from almost breaking my foot.” I try not to let the bitterness edge out too much.

“Some drills, self-defense against mortals and weak supernaturals. Nothin’ too in depth, but might save yer life one day. After a few hours of that, we’re gonna go at it,” they explain. “By which, ‘course, I mean I’m going to try an’ catch you while you do your best to not get caught. It’s what the mats are for.”

“Thanks so much for that consideration. The floor is what I’m really afraid is going to hurt me right now,” I say, trying to ignore the throbbing in my foot. “First part sounds easy enough but I better call down to the infirmary, I’ll need a bed by the end of the night.”   


“Don’t you worry, detective, I won’t keep ya from your day job. I can keep my strength in check, and I’m not that fast. Prob’ly faster than ya think, but not that fast.”

“And if I do all this training and then go up against something faster?” I ask out of actual curiosity.

They shrug their giant shoulders and it sounds like a boulder falling down a hill, jarring when it stops suddenly. “Not much you can do there, better think faster than they do or hope one of yer team is around to get in their way.”

“Comforting,” I sigh and then move to the mats to get ready for these drills. “Guess we better get started, we’re burning moonlight.”

Enio obliges, stepping into the makeshift ring with me. The drills are awkward, I’m not used to smoothly moving in the ways the movements require, but they assure me it will feel natural soon enough. We take a short break after a few hours and I have to fight to not fall asleep on the mats.

Thoughts of rest dissipate when Enio starts taking swings at me. They were right, I expected at their size their movements to be more lumbering and clumsy but I struggle to keep out of their reach. In fact several times I fail to and I get fresh bruises as a prize, though with their strength I suppose I’m lucky I’m still walking by the time the training ends.

The self-defense drills strained my muscles and tendons with the repeated movement and bending. The worst game of tag I’ve ever played leaves my throat dry, lungs sore, and limping. All in all, better than I expected.

I leave Enio in the room, who was busy setting up a projector for themselves so they have something to do during the day, and stumble back to my quarters.

Not even bothering to strip away the soaked clothing, a problem for future Alex I decide, I fall into bed and I begin to fade immediately. Right on the cusp of sleep, as the world begins to disappear around me, I’m brought back by the sound of my phone going off.

I groan then roll over to grab it and check the caller ID. I’m tempted to put it back down before I jab the green button and speak.

“What?” I ask gruffly, fatigue obvious in my voice.

“Good morning to you too, detective,” it’s hard to believe I can find the sound of a voice I normally find pleasant so grating at this exact moment.

“When I agreed to this I had hoped for a full night’s sleep before I almost break my foot on my sparring partner.” I roll over and already regret the decision. I sit up before I fall asleep.

“You _kicked_ them?” Ava’s reply was incredulous.

“They said I had a free shot! I kicked what I thought might be a weak point!” I have a hard time defending my actions but I’m too stubborn not to try. “If I had broken something the blame would be on your shoulders.”

“I do not see how, I did not advise you to kick a rock troll as if  _ you _ could hurt them,” she returns. I swear I hear Farah snickering in the background.

My lips press into a thin line and my frustration breaks through the grogginess. “I am not helpless just because I don’t have vamp-strength, Ava.”

“No, you are not,” she says in an admission that both shocks me and gives me a small sense of pride. She sighs into the phone and I hear shuffling in the background. She’s moving I assume. “But despite your inexperience in battle you often run _into_ danger instead of away from it, so you are more akin to hopeless instead. That is what the drills are for. Listen to Agent Enio.”

I try and think up a retort but my mind blanks, I’m just too tired. I rub my eyes with my free hand to stay awake. “Not that I don’t appreciate the call, but, well… why did you call?”

“I am taking your report, detective. As I will be throughout the week while we are away,” she is quieter now but still moving.

“I’m sorry?” Is all I can manage.

"It's protocol, detective," she explains on the other end of the phone.

"For you to do a daily check-in?" I reply, certain she can hear my raised brow.

"Of course, yes," the response is just a little too fast.

But I’m in no state to challenge her, and if this is in the rulebooks then I know Ava will follow through with it. I let go of the breath I was going to use to argue with her.

“I’m fine here, Ava,” I assure her. “Bruises and a limp aside. No one’s going to come grab me in the middle of the Facility.”

A soft sigh of relief comes through the speaker before she speaks again. “Of course, I know that. I-- the team is concerned, that is all.”

Rolling my eyes actually hurts but I do it anyway. One day she’ll stop that, I hope.

“You said you were away?” I ask to shift the subject.

“We’re tracking a group of rogue supernaturals,” she admits freely. “The progress is slow but we have the trail. We expect to have to fight when we find them.”

“Stay safe, Ava,” all the built-up aggravation immediately melts away as concern fills my voice. “And keep the team safe. Please.”

“You have my word, detective,” the response is gentle and I picture the way her eyes are when she speaks like that. Cool mint, but warmed by an evening sun. “Now, you should get some sleep.”

“For once you’ll get no argument from me,” I joke and smile when I hear her laugh on the other end.

“Goodnight, detective.”

“Goodnight, Ava.”

The line cuts and I set the phone on the side of the bed before I fall into a deep slumber. It might be the exhaustion, or maybe it was her voice right before bed, but when I wake up twelve hours later I’m so well-rested I almost don’t notice the bruises.

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roll credits.
> 
> (Not really there's at least one other chapter)


End file.
